He looked at his hands. "Something to do, I guess."
"You did it out of boredom?"
"That too."
"Gary. Straight answers. Please."
Gary inspected his hands more closely, flexing them, as though checking that everything was still working, which seemed reasonable given recent events. "Mundy had already been writing to me. Keeping tabs. He likes to do that. He invited me to Magdalene's club, so I went. After Mum and Dad died, I didn't like how quiet it was at home so I went more often. I just wanted someone to talk to. Something to do besides watch television and read, and watch everyone on my street get old and die, like my parents."
Immortality sucked in so many ways it was impossible to quantify just how badly.
"I didn't go to the club for ages after I got shot, and when I started again it wasn't often. Most people there aren't interested in talking. Then I met Daniel, and then he, you know."
I knew.
The 'errand' we hadn't spoken about since Ballarat hung there. In the spirit of everything going to hell around me, I recklessly figured it was time to learn the worst. "How did you end up doing that? Helping vampires to die?"
He closed his eyes, perhaps afraid of seeing my reaction, then opened them, as though not seeing it was worse. "One of them went to Mundy. Mundy made me watch. Then I started doing it for him."
"For God's sake, why, Gary?"
He flinched. "Mostly… mostly because when Mundy did it, he liked to take his time. And I thought it shouldn't. Take time like that. That first time, he botched it. This guy was all mangled. And he wouldn't stop moving. Talking. Mundy was hacking off limbs, and this guy was whimpering. In bits."
Gary frowned at me, registering perhaps that all the blood had drained from my face. I imagined Angela Priestley and Alberto, taking so long to die, being made to take longer.
"It didn't stop when Mundy set fire to him, either. Only when the heart burned."
"Oh." Hence Gary's obsession with that. Hence, perhaps, Evan and Abe's swift insistence on burning Paterson's heart out too.
"That's. Um. Where I got the letters and diaries from, that I mentioned before. A couple of times, people gave them to me before I… did it."
"How many times have you… done it?"
"Alberto was the sixth."
Why had I thought Gary had spent his whole life sitting inside that house in Glen Waverley? His whole not-life, I corrected myself. How could he have been so… so…? Stupid was either too harsh or not harsh enough. Gary had been used, and he had let himself be used, all this time.
And in true Gary style, now he had uncorked about this secret, he couldn't stop talking. "At first I used to ask them why, and pretty much they all said they were sick of everything changing all the time, when they don't. They can't keep up and then they can't fit in any more. It's impossible to be in the open and it's too hard to hide." He chewed his lower lip worriedly. "And eventually they give up or go crazy. Blood crazy, I mean. Killing sprees, bloodbaths, trying to get their life back, until someone has to stop them - for everyone's sake.
"It never used to happen so much, they tell me," he continued, looking at his flexing hands. "I imagine it was easier when things changed more slowly. Mundy reckons he once met someone who was 2000 years old." He shook his head. "I can't imagine being around 2000 years from now. Maybe not even 200. Everything changes so fast. It's only been 40 years for me, and I'm finding it hard."
I reached out for his hands, wanting to still them. I didn't like where this conversation was going.
"The only thing I ever wanted to do was build stuff," he said, his gaze on my hands wrapped over his. "Bridges, planes, roller coasters, radios. I never did decide what kind of engineer I wanted to be. I just loved learning how things worked. Now I can't work out anything."
"Yes you can," I tried to reassure him, and myself, "You do stuff all the time. You do all the repairs around your house."
"I use a book for that. I can follow basic instructions fine."
"And your collection, all the notes you keep."
He shook his head dismissively. "One-off ideas and facts that interest me from my old books. Nothing new. Not analysis or any real insights. I'm like Algernon."
"Who?"
"There's this science fiction story, about a dumb guy who has his intelligence enhanced, but it doesn't stick. He ends up dumb again. He remembers what it was like to be smart, though. I'm like that."
"You rescued me," I said, "You worked out how to do that."
His gaze shifted to meet mine, then. Hazel eyes without the spark of life in them. I knew Gary Hooper was hidden behind them, perennially a half-stunted twenty three, clawing his way forward any way he could.
"Yeah, I did," a smile ghosted his face.
"You're not dumb." I squeezed his knuckles. "You're one of the smartest people I know."
That brought a proper smile, though I don't think he was convinced.
"Gary, what am I going to do with you?"
"That's what my mum used to say all the time."
I had no idea what to say to that. Instead, I tried to draw a line under the whole thing. The worst, surely, was known, and it wasn't great, but it wasn't impossible to live with. "I don't want any more secrets between us, Gary."
"There aren't any more," he said, "Nothing worse, anyway."
My guts squirmed. That still left a lot of room for nasty surprises. "What else have you hidden from me, then?" Wanting and not wanting to know.
Gary smiled ruefully. "I don't really like musicals that much."
Not what I'd been expecting. "That's not a secret, Gary."
"And I ditched fifth grade once to go fishing with Angus from next door. His idea," he added, slightly defensively.
Of all the secrets to confess to. "Is that it?"
"And. Ah. We ended up swimming in the nuddy in the Yarra. Dad sprung us and gave me a hiding."
"Was that for cutting class or for skinny dipping?" I asked, trying to picture it, then trying not to.
"Cutting class. He was big on school. I think Mum thought the whole thing was 'boyish hijinks'."
"And is that it for secrets?"
"Yeah, I think I'm done."
"Good."
A brief silence ensued, broken finally by Gary. "Am I still your worst best friend?"
"Without a doubt." I said it with a smile, because despite everything it was true, and I didn't want him to think that I thought any different.
A further brief silence was broken again by Gary. "How many vampires does it take to change a light bulb?" he asked.
"How many?"
"None. They like it in the dark."
I laughed. It hurt. I stopped, gasping.
"Ah. Maybe I shouldn't tell any more jokes."
"No," I exhaled carefully, "that's fine. I could use a laugh."
"I've got more where that came from." That lopsided grin made a return engagement and I met it with my own wan smile.
My best friend: the Dr Nitschke of the undead, who told vampire jokes, and collected schlocky horror movies, and rescued me from burning buildings on a semi regular basis. And, I realised with a burst of happiness, it was all right. Whatever else was going to hell, Gary and me were still solid.
"What I'd really like you to do," I said, "is make me a cup of tea."
"I can do that," he nodded purposefully and clambered up to put on the kettle. I heard him moving about in the kitchen.
"Tea's in the cupboard above the fridge," I directed, taking the opportunity to lever my shoes off my feet and stretch out on the bed. Aaaah. Bed. Nice soft supportive bed and a nice soft squishy pillow…
Until I heard a door close, I had no idea I'd drifted off to sleep. I would have sat bolt upright except that I couldn't. I made a pathetic whimpery noise, instead, as I struggled to sit. Through my open bedroom door I could see Kate, carrying some shopping bags. Gary, on his way back to my room with a cup of tea, had stopped.
"Um. Lissa wants. Um. Tea."
"I
can wait," said Kate. Gary edged into my room and put the tea on my bedside table, then waited like a kid in the headmaster's office for Kate. She paused outside the door, as though waiting for an invitation to enter.
"I've got something for you," Kate said to Gary.
He looked at her warily. Kate reached inside the plastic bag she held and withdrew an extravagantly wrapped parcel. She offered it to him.
"Please accept my apologies for the way I've been speaking to you," she said quietly. "I hope you'll accept this. It's to say thank you for looking after my sister."
Gary stood looking like a stuffed specimen at a museum. A muscle in Kate's cheek twitched as her gaze fell away from his.
"Um." Gary shuffled his feet. "Thank you."
"Lissa told me about your collection. I hope you haven't already got these."
"I can smell chocolate," he said, puzzled.
"I went to one of the really good chocolatiers and got some for you."
"I can't eat it."
"Lissa said you liked the scent of things. I thought you might like it."
"Um, I do." He took the parcel gingerly from her, as though it was ticking. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Another deep breath. "I'll leave you to it. I'll talk to you in a while, sis." Kate departed rapidly for her own room. Gary turned towards me, regarding the parcel with mystification.
"Look what Kate gave me," he said wonderingly.
"I can see." I was nearly as gobsmacked as he was.
He slid down into his new favourite place on the floor next to my bed and set the parcel on the floor beside him. "Look at all that ribbon."
Kate had gone to town on the wrapping. Expensive gold and silver foil paper. Two different coloured ribbons around it, ending in a wild cascade of purple and gold flowing curlicues. I was a bit envious. Kate had never given me a present that looked so sumptuous.
"Are you going to open it?"
"I think I'll just look at it for a while." He threw a pleased look my way. "Smells good, though, doesn't it?"
Bless Kate. The chocolate had been a thoughtful touch.
I sipped my tea. When I'd reached the bottom of the teacup I felt refreshed and filled with renewed curiosity. "What did you do with yourself all day, anyway?"
"Read. Watched TV. Stuff."
"Stuff?"
"I made some phone calls."
"Oh? To?"
"Smith."
"I see." After everything he'd just told me about his former career as a bag man and euthanaser-for-hire I didn't, really.
"He can track down the house in St Kilda from my description, he says."
"He really just has to look for the one with the smashed-down door."
"Yeah. And, he can use his connections to find out who rented it out. Track them down maybe. He said that he'd do that so that Magdalene and Mundy could, um, take care of business."
Those last four words did not sound good. "Is that why you called him? So Magdalene and Mundy could 'take care of business'?"
Gary's expression was grim. "They're trying to kill us all, Lissa. They've succeeded a couple of times already. They came close with Mundy and too close with me. I'm sick of sitting around waiting for it to happen."
A long, uncomfortable silence.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Yes."
Gary nodded and started to rise.
"No. Gary. Sit down. Look. I get it. They're bastards."
"They hurt you," he said angrily, "I'm not going to let them do that again. It's good you're not going to work tomorrow. You're safer here."
"So are you."
"I've got to go home sometime, Lissa."
"Not while that pair are out there."
"All my stuff is there. And I want to check my email."
"You can do that from here. I'll show you."
"Lissa…"
"Will you at least wait until Magdalene and Mundy have… have taken care of business?"
"It'll be Magdalene and Smith, actually," Gary said, "She says Mundy's still sulking about his arm."
"Has Mundy told you to…?"
"No." An angry scowl. "I've killed vampires who want to die. No-one else. They don't ask. I certainly don't offer."
"Good. I'm glad," I said quietly.
"Me too." He scrubbed his hand through his hair, his grimace resolving into resignation. "Can I really check my email from here?"
He fetched my laptop and we sat together while I logged onto his service. I was curious to see who he got mail from. It turned out he had a mailbox full of horror fiction and science newsgroup posts and spam. He had trouble with the trackpad so I plugged in the mouse and left him to it while I went to the kitchen.
I picked up my bag and the cordless phone and took them into the bathroom. I turned on the shower full blast, sat on the closed toilet seat, dug up Evan's mobile number from the card he'd given me, and called him.
"They're coming after you," I whispered when I heard his voice. Evan tried to speak but I overrode him, "Shut up. They're getting their gangster friends to track you down. Get out of town. If you're not here hurting people they haven't got any reason to hunt you."
"Lissa, I need to talk to you."
"Evan, what you need to do is get out of Melbourne. I don't care where. They're going to protect themselves however they can, and they'll kill you if they get the chance. Go home to your son."
"I need to know about that friend of yours…"
"You leave Gary alone, you hear me? Whatever you choose to do, you leave him and me alone."
"Lissa!"
"You're a lying shit, but I don't want them to kill you, got it? Leave town. Don't ever come back."
Part of me wanted to take those last words back. I was hung up on the guy; but I'm not stupid or suicidal. I ended the call.
When I turned, Kate was there. I hadn't heard her come in.
"Lissa, what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to stop a murder. Well. Several murders."
The flippant tone I had been aiming for was clearly beyond my skill. Kate blanched, and I nearly dropped the phone, my hands were trembling so hard. I tried a different approach. "It'll be over soon, one way or the other." The idea did not offer much comfort.
Kate closed her hand over mine, and her eyes looked right inside me, into the mess in my head, past all the grief and loss and fear. "You can't save everyone," she said quietly.
"I can try."
She smiled affectionately. "You're a little bit crazy, sis. Don't…" she faltered, found her voice again, "don't get yourself killed. I wouldn't know what to do if you died."
I wound my arms around her and pressed my face against her chest. She dropped her cheek to rest it on the top of my head, holding me tightly. It hurt all my bruises. I would not have let go of her if the world was ending.
Kate has a pretty good idea of comfort food, and 20 minutes later we were ensconced on the living room sofa with a cup of liqueur-laced hot chocolate and some chocolate coated biscuits, watching a favourite old romantic comedy and giggling at Katharine Hepburn being daffy. When I shivered, Kate disappeared into my bedroom and returned with a blanket and Gary.
Gary sat on the floor near my feet, his back against the sofa and assumed what I reassured Kate was a companionable silence.
Kate frowned when Gary stated in the middle of a scene that he remembered seeing this film with his mother "a few months after I… you know, died." I shoved him, short and sharp, in the back with my foot and he threw a confused glance at me.
"I wanted to see Bonnie and Clyde," he continued, "And she really wanted to see Dr Dolittle, so we split the difference and caught this instead."
"I thought you only watched vampire films," said Kate bemusedly.
"Only professionally," he said with a twitch of a smile, "Otherwise I watch and read whatever's on. I don't sleep, I've got to do something with myself. Besides, Mum liked the flicks and Dad wasn't so keen, so I used to go with her."
Which is more th
an he'd ever told me about his mother.
"Why didn't your Dad like movies?" Kate was sitting forward, giving full rein to her curiosity now she'd decided Gary was no longer a pestilence.
"He said he preferred non-fiction. He was a history teacher. He read biographies, mainly."
"It must have made his head hurt when he found out about vampires."
"Only to start with. Once the evidence was irrefutable I think he just moved it from the 'myth' column to the 'real' and adjusted. He was good at adjusting."
I could see Kate trying to imagine someone taking it all on board so practically.
"Though Mum was worried I was going to go all evil, for a while."
"She was?"
"Well, Dad was an atheist anyway, so he didn't have any religious hang-ups about it. Mum was more an agnostic. After a few months, she got used to it. To me." He shrugged. I could hardly imagine anyone living with Gary for more than a week without concluding that he was about as evil as a business sock.
Even knowing what I did now, about his life since dying, the things he'd done, it was impossible to think of Gary as evil. If anything, it made him more human.
"So, do you own any of those movies I got you?"
Gary looked sheepish, "I haven't opened it yet. I'm saving it for, um, later."
"Most of them are brand new releases. I figured you wouldn't have them yet."
"Great!" Gary perked up. "I usually have to wait until they're on special. Is that Swedish one about the kids there?"
"That was the first one the shop assistant recommended."
Gary grinned at her, "Thanks."
Kate's muscles tensed and I wondered what had set her off this time. Then I realised that when Gary grinned like that, his normally unobtrusive pointed canines were more evident. His smile faltered self-consciously.
Kate exhaled slowly, calming herself. "You're welcome, Gary. Sorry about that, I'm still adjusting."
"Yeah," he nodded, "Took me a while as well."
That engendered a meditative look from Kate, and Gary relaxed again.
They were getting on. Good. Ridiculous, however, was the sudden frisson of jealousy I felt about it.
Gary grinned at me and tapped my foot. "You up for a monster movie festival in the next few weeks, when all this other stuff is cleared up?"
Trust Gary to point out the elephant in the room, with a torch on high beam. Strangely, it made me feel better. I was still the one he invited to his house to watch movie marathons, after all.
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